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The Legend of William Oh-Chapter 224: Running From Sleep
Fabron had unfortunately sobered up by the time he got back to his room, but despite that, he still leaned against the door frame as he unlocked the door, stumbling inside his room.
I’ve only been awake a handful of hours and I’m exhausted.
But despite his exhaustion, the bed looked like the jaws of a predator, salivating at his approach.
A flush of adrenaline at the sight of the bed flushed the exhaustion out of his mind.
No. No, I should do something else. Something lordlike. Like paperwork, or counting coin, or whatever a Lord does.
His attendants handled all of that.
At the thought of his attendants, something visceral stirred in Fabron’s stomach, and he leaned against the wall, gasping, the world spinning as he struggled not to puke.
“Is something wrong, Master?” Lucas asked, the butler arriving beside him. “Perhaps you should rest.”
He could feel Aria’s slender fingers tugging on his hand, urging him towards the bed.
It was just a phantom sensation, but her message was clear. Summon me and release all you desire.
Desire? Hah. The thought of being held by the beautiful Aria turned his stomach again, bringing back the feeling of nausea in full force.
How much have I been sleeping these last few weeks? Twelve, fourteen hours a day? More? Sleep was an unending nightmare. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮
“No!” Fabron shouted, his voice cracking a bit more than he’d expected as he brushed off Lucas’s hand. A moment later he drew a deep breath and straightened. “No. I’ve slept too long already. Let’s take some time to see the sights.”
“…As you wish, Master,” Lucas said with a bow. “Please allow me to accompany you.”
“…I need a break.” Fabron said. A moment later, Lucas erupted into phantom flames, his skeleton highlighted by the ethereal fire as it was consumed.
A moment later, Fabron was alone, fully alone for the first time in months.
The number of attendants he was supporting dropped to the two remaining in his Stronghold.
Just dropping the number of manifested attendants to two was a huge weight off his shoulders, but there was still a little nagging drain at the edge of his perception.
You too. Fabron thought, dismissing them as well. In that moment, he simply didn’t care what little tricks Bakton might have waiting for him back at home.
It couldn’t possibly beat this sense of relief, Fabron thought, with a sigh as he splayed out in the center of the room, his back pressing against the pleasantly cool stone floor of the palace guest room.
Despite feeling like there were seven people standing over him, staring down at him disapprovingly, he couldn’t bring himself to give a single shit.
Fabron felt his eyes drifting closed, the world around him gradually dimming and fading away.
Fire.
Fabron’s eyes snapped open, his heart rattling against its cage, the sudden dump of adrenaline leaving him panting for breath.
No, don’t want that, Fabron thought, groaning as he dragged himself to his feet, taking far longer than he should’ve to straighten himself.
“I’m going out.” He addressed the empty room with seven ghosts invisibly staring abck at him.
Fabron retreated from the room, half-trotting down the opulent hallway, grateful that none of the other Lords in attendance saw him.
With a grunt, he started tearing off the opal-studded vest, getting it halfway unbuttoned and untucked before he thought better of it.
He had to wear his full set through town anyway in case someone jumped him. He would be like a walking beacon strolling through Zodiac’s Stronghold regardless of whether or not he was wearing the fancy vest.
Fabron glanced down and realized that ghostly hands were guiding his fingers to effortlessly re-button the vest and tuck it seamlessly back into his pants, causing his hair to stand on end.
He picked up the pace, going from a half-trot to a full run, darting past the startled guards at the entrance.
They weren’t there to keep people in, and they already knew who he was, so the guards simply shrugged and returned to their boring duty as Fabron sprinted into the night.
Fabron skidded to a halt near a local tavern, his hard boots clicking on the crystal cobblestones they slid across. The scent of manure wafting from the farmland in the center of the lent a sense of realism to the scene.
This is real. I am here. Fabron reminded himself, savoring the smell of animal shit.
Better than burnt flesh. Better than the dreams.
What…were the dreams, anyway?
Fabron knew he was suffering while he slept, but he couldn’t remember what he dreamed about. Every time he thought about it –
Fire and Death
Fabron’s mind touched something horrible and his recoiled from the memory, unwilling to subject him to even the ghost of the horror.
“GAH!” Fabron smacked his temple with his palm, once, twice, three times, trying to beat the horror out of his mind, but no matter where he went, it seemed to follow.
Or…I’m carrying it with me. Fabron thought, glancing down at the ring under his glove. He tore off the popinjay glove and inspected the ring under the pale light of the pleasure district’s central crystal tower.
A signet ring, the outside studded with Fire opal, and a band made of gold with motifs of burning leaves.
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The detail was inhuman. Literally. Nothing human could’ve made it.
And the signet depicted in the center of the ring? Seven flaming skulls.
That should’ve been warning enough.
For a brief instant, Fabron was tempted to take off the set and vanish into the night, his fingers inching towards the ring, even as the seven ghosts placed their hands on his arms, subtly pulling him back.
…No. Fabron thought, relaxing his hand, which went limp by his side.
Bakton would find me eventually and that would be the end of old Fabron. Bakton was less than happy with the damage he’d done in Bakton Keep, and he’d marked Fabron for death.
Taking off the set was a death sentence. Just slightly delayed.
Not to mention, I still need to get revenge on William Oh.
Even now, the rage festered in his guts as he thought of the time he spent cleaning up the kid’s mess.
Treat me like a slave? Drop a giant stone shit on Bakton’s lawn and expect me to haul it away? I’ll burn away your limbs, seal you in a coffin with the remains of everything you love and throw it in a pyre.
A faint voice in the back of Fabron’s mind argued that Bakton was the one who’d enslaved him, and only because he’d tried scamming someone. Cleaning up William Oh’s battle had been incidental. If there hadn’t been a melted lump of glass to dispose of, his foreman would’ve found some other humiliating task for him to do.
Shoveling shit, cleaning out grease traps, butchering animals, hauling freight. There would’ve been something for the Debt Slave to do. Probably worse than mining glass.
And yet that faint voice couldn’t erase the indignant anger he felt towards Wiliam Oh, irrational as it might’ve been.
“Bah, I need a drink,” Fabron muttered, straightening and heading towards the tavern.
The moment he set foot inside, the normal chatter of the inn dropped to nothing as all the patrons stopped and stared at him.
I’ll never get used to this, Fabron thought, trying not to shrink into himself as he plodded forward.
‘A Lord does not hunch in front of other Climbers.’ Lucas’s words echoed in his ears.
I’ll hunch if I damn well please, Fabron thought, deliberately hunching over and shoving his hands in his pockets as he entered.
“Damn cold outside Innit?” A voice asked from the right-hand side, where a group of some Party of four Climbers sat, halfway through their dinner.
“Come on, there’s hardly anywhere else to sit.” The leader, a man with close-shaved hari and scars near his eyes said with an amiable grin, gesturing to the empty seat between the priestess and the mage.
Smells like a setup. Fabron thought, scanning the rest of the floor. There truly weren’t many other seats, and none of them had their own table.
Fabron wasn’t a naïve boy like William Oh. he’d been around the block a time or two, and done his own scams more than once.
These people seemed awfully nervous. Like they were doing this for the first time…
Oh, it’s because I’m a Lord.
Fabron glanced around the tavern again and shrugged.
There really weren’t many other places to sit and none of them placed him between two handsome women.
Might be some attempt to rip me off, but the seating is better than anywhere else in the tavern, Fabron thought, sitting between the two, a server rushing up to him and taking his order immediately.
At least the clothes get me fast service, Fabron thought as his beer and steak arrived mere moments after he’d ordered it. Probably someone else’s order that had been repurposed.
Fabron winced an apology to whoever’s food he’d taken, and then dug in with a voracious appetite.
Real food!
Little finger-sandwiches and crispy flakes of nothing couldn’t beat brisket with a thick bark and mashed potatoes.
Mashed potatoes! On the eleventh Floor. What a godsend.
Fabron felt like all his drained energy was returning to his body as the four Climbers continued chatting amongst each other, their conversation punctuated by groans of satisfaction and the clink of silverware against ceramic plates.
This is a pretty nice place, isn’t it? Fabron thought as he ate, not minding the others until a phrase caught his attention.
“William Oh’s
supposed to be at the wedding tomorrow. I hope I get the chance to see him.” Amy, the priestess of Granesh said, wiggling in her seat.
“Just look for the guy who’s literally blindingly handsome,” Kyle said with a chuckle. “Apparently you can go blind if you look at him too long.”
“Pfft, he’s not all that.” Fabron muttered.
“You got to meet him!?” the mage Bess asked, grabbing his arm in excitement.
Despite the beer in his mug being far below his tolerance, Fabron felt the blood rush to his head.
“Abyss yeah, I met him,” Fabron said, muscling back an un-lord-like chortle. “I was at the meet and greet this evening and talked to him face to face. And let me tell you…he ain’t all he’s cracked up to be.”
“Go on,” Kyle Fontaine said, leaning his elbows on the table and staring up at Fabron expectantly
Fabron spent the rest of the night regaling
the four Climbers with all the reasons why he hated William Oh, which usually circled back around to ‘young punk stealing my thunder’.
He was just starting to feel okay for the first time in months when he finally figured out what the scam was.
They’re trying to pick a fight. Fabron thought, scowling. They kept trying to get him to commit to some kind of action to ‘take his pride back’ from William Oh. Frankly it was amateurish work that had the stink of desperation about it.
Fabron had been much better at fleecing marks back in the day, which was why he’d felt confident enough to try it in a place like Bakton Keep.
Sorry kids, I don’t have none o’ that left in me, Fabron thought, lurching to his feet. He’d experienced life’s lowest lows, and if this cloying atmosphere where everyone was trying to manipulate him was life’s highest high…then screw it.
“Something wrong?” Kyle asked.
“You’re right. I’m gonna give William Oh a piece of my mind,” Fabron lied, hamming up his inebriation. “I’m…I’m gonna show everybody he’s a lyin’ sack o…I’mma do it.”
As if. I’m gonna kiss that kid’s ass until it shines. Fabron thought, staggering away from the table. Didn’t matter how much he hated the kid, it was better than picking a fight at random with anotherLord.
Fabron didn’t even really know how he stacked up against other Climbers, let alone other Lords. Why risk it? Better to put his hard-earned ass-kissing skills to work.
…So I can catch him while his guard is down, Fabron thought, wincing as the thought sent a spike of pain through his head.
Fabron shook the thought out of his head as he left the tavern. He was thinking a lot clearer since he’d left the palace, but he was still a bit cotton-headed.
He stopped near an alley, resting against a crystal wall as the crowd silently parted around him, a Climber in obviously powerful Kit. They might not know he was a Lord, but they knew he was loaded, and up here, wealth and power were literally the same thing.
Should I go back, and go to bed? Somehow, he felt fresher than he had all week, just from escaping that stifling guest room that was far bigger and more luxurious than the one he had in his own Stronghold.
“I don’t wanna go back.” Fabron muttered.
His guts sank as he felt the strain behind his eyes returned of its own accord.
“Master, you must return.” Neka said. The fae with the short brown hair, armor and a rapier manifested and stepped in front of him. His bodyguard could manifest whenever she wanted, which was usually reserved for when he was in danger.
There are only four hours until the wedding assembly tomorrow. Unsavory types roam the streets at this hour, and you need sleep. If you return, Aria can-”
“Can do what? Pat my head and tell me to last just one more day? Again!?”
“Master-“
“I’m not in danger, Neka, so fuckoff.”
The fae regarded him with a cold look in her fire-filled eyes.
“You want revenge on William Oh for the indignities he has visited upon you.” She said, her voice taking on a strange tone that seemed to seep into Fabron’s bones.
“I…Don’t!” Fabron shouted, leaping to his feet. “The fuck does that kid have to do with me!? What indignities? I never met that brat before yesterday! He’s the only reason I have this set at all!”
“Yes, He brought you here to humiliate you in front of the other Lords. He’s the reason you suffer. He’s the one that haunts your dreams-“
“Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!” Fabron shouted, squeezing his eyes shut.
Neka’s fascinating voice didn’t return.
Curious, Fabron peered through one eye before opening the both.
Neka was gone, and in his hand, he held the Signet of the Burning Court.
“Hah. Hah hah hahahah…” Fabron laughed, slumping against the wall, mindless of the muck in the alleyway as he collapsed to the ground.
The final set bonus unlocks the Burning Court. Remove one Relic and they disappear. Was it really that easy this entire time?
Fabron Faefire fell asleep. For a brief moment, his breath hitched and he felt as if he were suffocating, but it faded quickly.
He did not wake.







